Deliver Me
by suqua
Summary: Edward has found a possible new method of bringing his and Al's body back to normal. It seems that Roy knows exactly how to, but secrets keep bouncing up everywhere! AUish, RoyxEd, FINISHED
1. Deliverance

Deliver Me

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Chapter One: Deliverance

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He was doing it again. Just . . . staring at him. Edward hated it. He hated it almost as much as he hated the man himself, with his stupid all knowing smirk, and his stupid smug voice, and his stupid, stupid self.

Yes, needless to say, Edward hated Roy Mustang.

He was so sick of Mustang watching him. He always at the same look. Whether they were in his office, or in the library it was always the same look. Elbows propped on the nearest surface, fingers steepled, and one gloved tip barely touching his lips. The black eyes were always focused on him, and that damn bastard smirked every single time Edward met his eyes.

Smug son of a...

And now he was at it again. Edward was minding his own business, sitting in the library, pulling up tome after tome looking for a name he'd heard in passing. It had been a flippant mention, but it struck a chord in Edward, and it wasn't long before he found himself buried up to his elbows in words that gave him nothing.

He could practically feel Mustang's eyes boring into his back, and it wouldn't be much longer until he lost it. What was that bastard doing? He'd never set foot in the library before, why now? Why when Ed was so close to finding what he wanted, he could almost taste it? That rat-faced ass was trying to distract him! Keep him from the information he needed!

If that was the case, Edward was just going to work harder. He opened another book and sneezed, a cloud of dust rising from it.

"Dammit!" His whispered voice was loud to his own ears, and his automail hand curled into a fist as he waved the dust away with the either. The librarians were there to take care of these books, not leave them in piles of man-eating dust! Edward could feel it settling in his hair and clothes, but he didn't care, brushing away the dust on the page with a gloved hand of his own.

This was the one. It had to be the one. Why else would it be covered in dust? There had to be something important in it, something about the Deliverance Alchemist, something about why he -

A gloved hand dropped onto Edward's shoulder, a tight grip meant only to catch attention. "Full Metal, doing some research?" Roy asked, a smirk drawing his face apart. "Ah, the Deliverance Alchemist."

He peered over the blonde's shoulder (more accurately, his head) and studied the words. "Hmm. You're using one of the least informative books. There are one or two more if you look on the lower shelves."

Edward felt ready to slam his head into the book in front of him. He would have, too, if it hadn't been emitting dust like a broken teapot. He waited for it. The crack about him being so short he wouldn't have to look at the lower shelves because they were eye level.

And he waited.

And waited.

And it never came.

That settled it. Mustang was definitely up to something, and he was going to find out what!

Shrugging out from under Mustang's hand, Edward nearly fell out of his chair. "Thanks." There was no appreciation in his voice, and he didn't sound thankful in the least.

Why was Mustang helping him? He would have found the books eventually. Not only that, but how did that jackass Colonel know where the books were if he was never in the library? Ed would have known, he was always in the library! It was his second home when he was in the East City, though it had nothing on the Central Library.

Roy stared down at him, a seemingly normal smirk still on his face. "Strange you'd be studying the same man whom I did an entire two year long research project on." He commented. "And I still have my notes, books, and texts that I bought in my library. Unfortunately, the Military decided that The Deliverance Alchemist was not worth their time and you can assume what happened next."

Yes, the home that the State provided for Roy was large enough to contain perhaps a thousand books. Some he himself hadn't even read.

Wincing, Ed rubbed both of his hands over his face. He instantly regretted it, the dust on his gloves sneaking its way into his nose. He sneezed again, more violently this time.

Ugh. He hated dust.

"What did he do that was so bad?" Edward asked with his voice muffled by his hands. He didn't want to move them and risk more dust. Besides, it let him avoid that damn smirk.

Shrugging, Roy shook his head. "No one is sure. It is said that the Fuhrer gave him the Deliverance title when he 'delivered' something to him." He placed a hand on his chin thoughtfully. "And then he either vanished or died."

In all of Roy's research, he hadn't found a single thing. Not one.

He stared down at Edward again. "By the way, gesundheit."

Spreading his fingers so he could see through them, Edward raised a brow. "What?"

Vanished or died? Sounded suspicious. Ed could imagine what had happened to him, and he didn't like it a bit. After delivering something to the Fuhrer, Edward didn't have one doubt in his mind as to what had happened to Deliverance.

And he was going to find out exactly what he had delivered, no matter what.

"What do you mean, what?" Roy asked, staring down at him. "That's all there is, the end."

He smirked. "Don't work too hard." And he started walking toward the front entrance of the library, humming something under his breath.

Edward lowered his hands and made a face, glaring at Roy's back. "'What do you mean, what?'" He mocked to himself. "You can't speak another language and expect me to understand. Bastard."

Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the book with a huff. Mustang had never given him a reason to believe he was a liar yet, but Ed wasn't thrilled with the idea of taking Roy's advice - again. It was worse then taking the asshole's orders, because Edward didn't have the excuse of being told what to do!

No, advice was really just a suggestion, and he loathed the idea of taking it.

Grumbling to himself, Ed slammed shut the book. He left it on top of the others on the table, abandoning his chair. Lowering himself onto his stomach, he glowered at the lower shelves. Using his arms, he pushed himself along the floor, pulling out books that looked likely.

When he was done, there were a good six books laying behind him, and he sighed. Mustang had said one or two, not six.

And that meant he'd be getting even more dust on him before he left.

Great.

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xxx

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The Deliverance Alchemist...It had been a long time since Roy had even thought about that man. He'd actually met him once, as a young boy. He couldn't remember much, except for the thought that the much older man had seemed to glow.

He stopped at his home, stepping into the vast library that had taken up the entire first floor and then some. There was a bookshelf full of mismatched manuscripts, Roy picked something up off of it. In bold script it read,

THE DELIVERANCE ALCHEMIST

ROY MUSTANG

This thing was old, probably full of typos and misspellings. Roy really wasn't that good with stuff like that.

Smirking to himself, he considered telling Edward exactly who the Deliverance Alchemist was and what he had been doing, everything. But no, it was better for the boy to figure it out on his own.

Plus, he enjoyed being an asshole.

Pausing for a moment, Roy stared at the bookshelf before putting the manuscript back onto the shelf. He smirked again before leaving the room and going back to his office.

Roy hoped Edward remembered what happened to the cat whom had been far too curious.

"Dammit!" Edward wanted to scream. In the entire library, there were only three books that even mentioned the Deliverance Alchemist! All any of them told him was that he had delivered a 'mysterious' gift, and then disappeared.

That wasn't anything he didn't already know, and now he was out of resources. He knew Mustang had more, but he was going to find it out on his own! He didn't need that smug bastard's help!

But he was out of leads. Completely out. He needed something that these books couldn't give him.

Closing the tomes he'd left open on the table, Edward shoved them back on the shelves. Bidding goodbye to the librarians, Edward stepped out into the sunlight.

His eyes narrowed, and he looked down. Ugh! It was so freaking bright! How many hours had he spent inside? What time was it?

Rubbing his eyes, he stepped down the steps without looking at them. He was glad when he reached the bottom that he hadn't run into anyone, and lowered his hands.

Where the hell did Mustang live? He needed those books, and the notes. He was going to find out, and if he had to ask Mustang for help, fine. He'd do it, he would even endure that damn smirk, as long as he got the information he needed.

Roy sat in his office, waving a case file in front of his face. Yet again, someone was using alchemy illegally and he had to deal with them. He sighed, tossing the folder back onto the table with the other ones.

Most of his job required a hell of a lot of paperwork, something he despised more than anything. Grumbling to himself, he half-wished for a war to pop up or a murderer to be set loose.

Those were bad, wicked thoughts, he scolded himself quietly as he sighed loudly. He groaned, forehead doing a face-plant on the desk. Oh, he was so bored. He needed something to do!

Then he'd have something to make his fingers stop twitching, get rid of the need to set fire to something. Hmm, maybe if he twisted a few short jokes into a conversation, he could get Edward mad enough to fight him.

Chuckling, he leaned back in his chair and twirled a pen in between white-gloved fingers.

Stepping into Roy's office, Edward shut the door behind him. He gave a quick nod, what had long ago replaced a bow. When he raised his head again, his jaw was set in determination.

He didn't want to be in the office, but he needed the information. Right now, in a land dry of leads, he'd found something. He needed to do this, for Al. And if putting Al back the way he was meant asking one more favor of Mustang, he would do it.

"Sir?" He hated titles, and he hated the titles that applied to the man in front of him. "You researched the Deliverance Alchemist. I'd like to see what you found."

It was clear in his voice, even though he didn't mean it to be, that he was going to find the research anyway. Whether or not Mustang wanted him to, he would get to it, if he had to break into the man's house itself.

"Do you?" Roy asked, pen dropping into the cyndrilical pencil holder on his desk.

He smirked. "Well, Full Metal...I don't know about that. No one is supposed to read my files, in fact they were supposed to be burned years ago." He leaned on his elbow, watching the younger man. "Do us both a favor and don't say the name you've already said within military walls. It's more taboo than the Philosopher's stone."

He tugged on both his ears. The whole office was bugged, or something. It seemed that Headquarters and the Fuhrer didn't trust them. Perhaps one of the librarians had reported Edward using the library to research the Deliverance Alchemist.

Edward sighed. Dammit, this was harder then it needed to be. His fingers flexed at his sides, positively twitching to get started on the research.

"I'd like to see them anyway." Like to see them? No, he was going to see them, no matter what. He was already thinking up ways to get into the colonel's house, but he only had one question.

Where did the man live? The office, as Edward had suggested grumpily to Al several months before? That would certainly make things easier. Or harder, depending on how much security was being pumped into the place.

It couldn't be anything he couldn't handle.

Roy stared at him. Then, he stood up. "What's that Full Metal? You want to go out on a date with me? Oh, sure, why not?" He said, loud enough that the entire office would hear.

Striding around the desk, he took Edward's hand. With a finger, he told him to shut the fuck up. Then he tugged on his ear pointedly before pulling him out of the office.

He didn't stop pulling until Edward and him were outside on the steps.

Now Ed's hands were twitching for an entirely different reason. He kept quiet, but he was glaring openly, all the way through the building. Once they were outside, he jerked his hand from Roy's and curled it into a fist. It landed hard against Roy's arm, and he glared up at the man.

Ooh, he hoped that fucking bruised.

"What the hell did you do that for, asshole?" He was practically yelling, and he didn't care if anyone could hear him inside. The door was still swinging shut, slow on its hinges. "I would never want to -"

Roy twitched, feeling pain erupt on his bicep. The brat.

"You want those godforsaken files or not?" He asked harshly, glancing over his shoulder. "These files are Class-A restricted material. We'd both be killed in our sleep if they know I gave them to you."

He stood up straight, crossing his arms. "But if you don't want them..."

"Of course I want the files!" Edward snarled, gold eyes molten as he glared. "Why the hell ELSE would I ask for your help?"

There were other ways they could have gotten out of the building, Roy didn't have to go and suggest a stupid date! Now he was going to have to deal with all the grins and suggestive comments from Havoc and Breda. Not to mention the questions from Al, and anyone else who heard the rumors.

Dammit!

"Because you have a deep, hidden, passionate crush on me." Roy said, with every bit of seriousness in his voice. "Or not. Come on."

He turned, starting to walk forward as he glanced around for his car. Havoc wasn't around, he would have to drive. Poor Edward.

"I do not!" Edward protested heatedly as he followed Roy, completely missing the "or not" in his statement.

A crush? How could he even suggest something like that? It was disgusting! It was Mustang! Smug bastard extraordinary.

No one could like him. It was a law of nature.

Turning, Roy leaned over until his nose was sliding over Edward's. "Don't blush."

He kept his lips a safe distance from the younger man's, but it was still a close miss. It took all Roy had not to smirk. Instead he looked completely neutral as he stared into Edward's golden eyes.

Heat flooded Edward's face, and he glared at Roy with everything he had. "I'm not blushing!" He could almost feel the flush throbbing in his cheeks, and it just increased his anger.

What the hell was Mustang playing at? How could he suggest something like that, and then... then get THAT close and look so normal? How?

This was a dream. It had to be a dream. Some sort of sick, twisted nightmare that he was going to wake up from because it couldn't possibly be real.

A soft smile, not quite one of the more familiar Roy-smirks, pulled at Roy's lips. Leaning back up, he turned back around without a word. "Come on, I'll take you to my library."

He kept walking, humming some tune under his breath.

Oh, that had been priceless. Seeing Edward Elric, the Full Metal Alchemist, blushing like an innocent virgin hearing the word 'sex'. Roy wished he'd had his camera.

"I hate you." Edward continued to glare at Roy's back as they walked, and he shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

It was true, too. He'd never hated Roy more in his life. He didn't know why - it wasn't like the ass was right, but there wasn't a single part of Edward that didn't hate Mustang. Any sensibilities he had about owing the man a favor, or being civil long enough to get the research were gone.

He was simple filled with uncontrollable emotion. And he chose to call it hate.

"I don't believe you." Roy said distractedly, spotting his car. He strode over to it, pulled the door open and didn't get in.

He kicked something. "Havoc, wake the fuck up."

A honey-blond head lifted up. "Eh?" A sleepy Havoc looked around. "Wha...?"

"Wake up. Now. Or you're demoted."

Havoc blinked, jumping up. "Oh! Sorry! Where to, sir?" He saluted, rubbing his eyes as he put his hand down.

Rolling his eyes softly, Roy moved to the backseat. "My place, Ed's doing some research on that guy."

"That...?"

"Hmmm-hmm."

"Ooooooooh."

Edward was pouting. He knew he was pouting, but there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. Did everyone know about the Deliverance Alchemist but him? Havoc wasn't even an alchemist!

Huffing, he got into the car after Roy. This was stupid. If everyone knew, why was the subject a taboo? Just like everyone he met knew about the Philosopher's Stone, but wouldn't talk about it. He could understand why they wouldn't speak of the Stone, it had been used for terrible things. Things no one should have to think about.

But why the Deliverance Alchemist? If he was a bigger taboo then the Stone itself, then he had to have done something involving the Stone. Delivered it, maybe? But why would he have disappeared? Had he taken it with him? Been killed?

He was going to find out. No matter what.

"Havoc assisted me in my research when I was younger." Roy said distractedly, Havoc nodded from the front.

He found a cigarette pack somewhere. "Roy worked me to the bone, had me track down every single book I could find." He groaned. "He made me go east just to find a three-page document, and south about a thousand kilometers to get another book."

"Oh." Edward's brow furrowed, and he looked down at his hands. That made more sense, but the anger didn't fade. He wished someone would just tell him what was going on, what the Deliverance Alchemist had done. Something.

He knew it was the wish of a child, but he couldn't make himself care. He felt young and mislead, especially after Roy's treatment.

"I hope you're up for a bit of reading." Roy commented at Edward. "Because the research paper is over a thousand pages long."

Havoc grunted. "The Military waited until AFTER we were done to tell us not to research it. Load of crock. They were so pissed we knew about it, too...Oh man, I'd never SEEN the Fuhrer so mad..."

"A thousand pages?" Edward's jaw dropped, and he stared.

After they were finished... Yeah, Edward could see the military doing that. Manipulative bastards. They always seemed to deliver news just a little too late.

"Give or take a couple hundred." Roy said, waving his hand. "I haven't looked at it in awhile so maybe I'm wrong. It's a good five-or-six volume set."

"Could be two thousand."

Roy shrugged. "It's been a good fifteen years since I'd even looked in that part of my library. Lucky for me, I get the place cleaned so..." He glanced at Edward, an amused smile on his face. "No dust."

Scowling at Roy, Edward brushed self consciously at his hair. When his hand came away, his glove was covered in dust. He groaned, wiping it on his pants. "I must look like an old woman."

No matter what he complained about, Edward's mind was already going over what he might find in the text. He couldn't wait to see it, find out what was so bad that could possibly be delivered.

Roy reached, bracing back before abruptly shaking Edward's head. The dust fell in clouds. "I find it amusing you didn't say a 'man', Full Metal." He said, watching the boy's black clothing gather a gray sheen.

Havoc took a sharp turn, Roy's house wasn't that far. He could probably drive there with his eyes closed.

Glaring and grumbling something about bastards and promotions, Edward tried to brush the dust off his back. His arm refused to bend that way, and he emitted a noise that was frighteningly like a growl.

Dammit. Stupid, stupid dust. He'd have to take off his shirt and shake it out later, and... The car was getting too warm. It had to be. Even with Havoc's window down, it was too warm.

Because Ed wasn't looking forward to taking off his shirt in front of Roy, though he doubted the asshole would leave him alone long enough to change.

Roy sneezed, pinching his nose. He groaned something softly.

Stupid dust. Maybe he shouldn't have done that. "You can't go into the library like that." Roy said as Havoc navigated his way to his home and parked in front. "It's bad for the books."

He had many old ones in there, older than him or Ed...even older than the current Fuhrer! Yeah, Roy was a book freak.

Edward snorted. He didn't pointed out that he'd gotten dusty from books, and he didn't mention that he agreed with Roy. That was just what Mustang needed. Another ego boost.

He escaped the car as soon as possible, muttering curses loud enough to get scandalous glances from those walking past. When the dust refused to move (and he was sure turning his head was just getting it in his hair), he turned to glare at Roy.

"I'm blaming this on you." He would have gotten dusty anyway, and eventually, he would have turned up at Roy's house for the research paper, but he felt better having someone to blame. And who better then the bastard he always blamed?

Roy didn't answer, smirking anyway before starting for the front door. The house was, in face, huge. Bigger than the Headquarters in which Roy worked.

He'd taken care to keep it as clean and dust-free as possible. But there was one thing...

He opened the door and a flurry of fur ran out the door, barking. The dogs ran until they found the smell of someone unknown. They jumped on Edward, barking and licking at his face.

A straggler yipped from Roy's feet, he leaned down and picked up a tiny little golden puppy.

"Yaaargh!" Edward nearly collapsed under the storm of dogs, shoving his way through them and struggling not to fall. Wading through them, he allowed himself the delirious thought that, hey, at least he wasn't covered in dust anymore. He couldn't see how dog slobber was any better, but...

Nearly tripping over a dog that was trying to wrap itself around his ankles, he raised a brow at the sight of Roy and the puppy.

"I didn't know you lived in a zoo."

"Zoos usually require more types of animals." He said, kneeling as six more of the golden puppies appeared. "Matsa had puppies three weeks ago." The little bundles of fur jumped and their little pink tongues lashed at his face.

He set down the puppy he'd had in his hand, it joined the jumping little ocean of golden brown. "Usually I get them from pounds or off the street."

There was a sharp meow from inside, Roy winced. No wonder the dogs had charged out. "Though...I have one cat..."

Edward blinked, looking down the hall as a small ball of orange began to waltz its way toward the dogs. He felt a grin spread over his face, and he moved past the dogs to the cat he knew he recognized.

Crouching in front of it, his grin widened. It was! The cat purred, butting his head against Edward's hands. He smiled, picking up the purring cat and standing. He turned to Roy, the cat rubbing its head against his neck.

"You took him?" Of course he had, or the cat wouldn't be there. "Why?"

"Him? I don't know what you mean." Roy said, walking past him. "In any case, he's rather fierce when it gets down to it. The dogs are afraid of little..."

He cut himself off, coughing into his hand. "The library, then? You look clean enough."

The group of dogs was at his heels, whining. "Hungry?" He asked them. They yipped in response.

"I'll find the library." Edward didn't put the cat down, and its claws dug into his shoulder, a clear sign that it wouldn't be put down. "Feed your zoo."

Roy seemed more... human, in his own home. Less a conceited bastard and more of a man. Weird. He'd never really considered Mustang to be human before.

"Just open a door." Roy said, starting up a large staircase. "The first floor is all books."

It was only when he'd gotten to the kitchen and was dishing out bowls of wet dog food that he realized. His cat had a collar on him. And that had the cat's name on it!

Opening the nearest door, Edward set the cat down and stared at the shelves. The smell was thick in the room, all leather bound covers and crisp pages. It was his favorite smell in the world, he could bury himself in a library and die happy, just because of the smell.

But that wasn't what he was here for, and he started weaving through the shelves, looking. He didn't know what he was looking for, a big sign that said "FIND THE DELIVERANCE ALCHEMIST, HERE," maybe. One gloved finger ran over the book titles, stopping on ones that looked likely.

Something thumped against his leg, and he looked down. He smiled at the sight of two large cat-eyes staring back at him. "Demanding, aren't you?" The cat purred deeply, and Edward laughed.

He reached down, picking the cat up again. His fingers scratched just below the collar. He peered down at the name, brows raising. Edward? Mustang had named the cat Edward?

Roy groaned, leaning against the kitchen counter. The dogs slurped up their dinner noisily, he leaned back up and started for the downstairs again. Two little gold things followed him, the fastest eating ones of the puppies.

It took him a moment to find Edward, but when he did, he found him in the wrong room. "Come on." He said, not meaning to startle the boy by breaking his thought. "The books are in the back."

Edward jerked, holding the cat a little tighter. The orange Edward yowled his disapproval, and Ed blinked, loosening his hold. "Oh..." Scratching the cat between the ears in hopes of being forgiven, Edward nodded. "Right."

He felt rather like he was hiding behind the cat as he turned to face Roy, but he didn't think much of it. Edward clung to his shoulder, looking lazy and content.

Ducking back out, Roy led Edward (the cat, and two puppies) to the back room. Pulling a set of keys from his pocket, he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

The room was dark, but he flicked a switch and light filled the room. Five bookcases lined the walls, Roy walked over to one and picked up the white print textbook from one. Then four more of it's large size. "Here they are. Better get started."

Staring at the textbooks, Edward could have groaned. He hooked his thumbs underneath the cat and handed him to Roy. "Take that." He muttered, picking up the first book.

Then he sat, back against the book shelf and opened the text to the first page. He snorted at the title, but was quickly past it, wading through the basic information he already knew and into the details he hadn't been able to find.

Ed sat on Roy's shoulder, small enough to do so with the aid of one of Roy's hands. "Okay..." Roy said, scratching the cat a little. "When you get tired, hungry, etcetera...just call me."

He turned to go, the puppies skipping in between his feet. "Oh, and you can't take those books out of my house. They're not allowed away from it, lest someone higher up than me finds out about them." Roy did not want to lose his chance at promotion.

Because a promotion would be one more step toward making the world a better place.

Letting out a distracted, "Uh huh," Edward turned a page, reading so fast it was surprising he took anything in. He was going to read the entire thing once before he started on his notes, and judging by the looks of things, that was going to take a very long time.

According to Mustang's research, which he was a little wary about accepting, Deliverance was a guy named Robert Hilton. He'd become an alchemist at twenty, and his life's work had been discovering everything possible about the Philosopher's Stone.

Ed had suspected that much. Why else would he be taboo?

The first volume was pretty useless to him. It was all background. Family, associations, all the people stuff that Edward didn't need. The second and third volumes gave him much more to go on.

Hilton had found the Philosopher's Stone, or... The secret to it. That was where he dropped all pretense of doing what the military wanted. He had delivered the secret, and he'd disappeared. The information Mustang had gathered seemed to be from Hilton's private journals, which he'd kept like any good scholar. And, like any alchemist who didn't want to be discovered, they were written in code.

Edward just hoped they weren't masquerading as a cook book.

The secret to creating a successful Stone was human life. Ed knew that. Hell, he probably knew it better then anyone. Hilton had disregarded that, and carried on purely for the science.

Fingers tightening on the book as he read, Edward felt sick. Children began to go missing from the town Hilton was hiding in. Small children, ranging from three to eight. He made stones, using each of the children.

And then he came to a discovery. Using children made weak stones. He found an adult, a young man in his twenties. Edward forced himself to keep reading. The procedure went as planned, until the smoke cleared to expose the stone.

It wasn't a stone. There was only the man, sitting in the circle, crying. Edward's brow furrowed, and he kept reading.

Hilton struggled for hours to discover what had happened. He'd quizzed the man endlessly, but the man couldn't remember a thing. In his desperation, Hilton had taken the man to Central. He'd been recognized immediately for what he was, and Hilton had been executed immediately for creating it.

The man had become the stone, and during the execution, he'd ran. Ran as hard and as fast as he could, away from Central and everyone who tried to attack him. He carried two distinguishing features.

Dark skin, and red eyes.

Edward shut the fourth book carefully, swallowing hard as he set it on top of the others. He'd heard of only one culture that carried those features. He'd met them... Why hadn't he figured this out before?

When he stood, his legs were shaking, like they couldn't hold him up. He braced himself on the shelves, practically crawling up them to keep his feet. He made his way unsteadily out of the library, unsure of the time, unwilling to check. He didn't want to know. Instead of finding answers, he'd found more questions. He knew who he had to find now, but he didn't know how to find him, or how to make him help.

It was beyond late, there was a faint light outside that announced just how long Edward had been reading. It had been time to make coffee, at least in the home of one Roy Mustang.

Roy stood in the dark hallway outside of the kitchen, cat curled up in his arms. "You know, then." He said quietly, staring at him. He was dressed in a pair of pajama pants, lack of wrinkles revealing he hadn't slept. No shirt, just a dog tag.

He could remember reading a small two-paragraph paper of Robert's. That was when his obsession with forbidden alchemy begun, eventually stopped by Hughes.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Edward was too tired to yell, stuck in a state of shock that wouldn't allow for any volume besides a whisper. "Why bother sending me on all of those stupid missions, when you could have just..."

It didn't make sense. Why would Mustang hold him back, keep him from helping Al? That was all he wanted to do. He didn't care what else could happen because of the stone. It was already around anyway, why hadn't Roy just told him? Made it easier? Al would be back in his body, instead of stuck in a tin can.

None of this would have had to happen if Roy had just told him.

"I don't control the Ishbalan people, Full Metal." Roy said, turning away and setting the cat down on the floor. Ed meowed, disturbed at the lack of Roy's warm arms.

He heard the beep of his coffee maker, turning. He pulled down a coffee cup. "Robert Hilton." He said softly. "Been a while since I've thought of him."

Turning back toward Edward, he stared at him. "I shouldn't have even have let you know today." He decided, "But here we are."

"You could have told me." Edward pressed, not even trying to yell. It wasn't worth it. None of it was worth it. He'd met the Philosopher's Stone, and he hadn't even known. And Scar could have helped them! Helped Al!

Edward's faith in adult kindness was gone. His faith in everything was gone. All he wanted to do was curl up, go to sleep, and never wake up again.

Sitting down at one of the stools that surrounded the counter in the middle of the kitchen, Edward rested his elbows on the surface. Chin in his hands, he followed Roy's movements with only his eyes.

"You wasted my time, and yours. You knew that all I wanted with the stone was to help Al, it's not like that's going to kill anyone!" Ah. That was him. His anger at Roy, Scar, even himself, was just now beginning to leak out.

"You're such a child." Roy cut him off, staring at him with narrowed eyes. "Don't think that you're the only person in the world who has problems. Think about the situation. Scar could help you, heal your brother and restore your limbs. Or he could go and save a dying race of people in dire need to his help."

He shut his eyes, hand rising to his forehead. "'All you wanted'..." He said softly. "All you wanted was something that would take so much energy. Equivalent exchange occurs even when you try to cheat, Edward."

Turning again, he poured his cup of coffee as the sun started pouring into the room from large windows.

Edward looked away from Roy, his hands flat on the table. He was a child, he knew that. He was still holding onto the childish dream that everything turned out okay at the end of the story. That if he turned enough pages, he would make it to that happy ending.

There was no happy ending, but he hadn't come this far just to give up. He slipped quietly off the stool, shooting a half hearted glare at Roy's back. "I promised him."

And he didn't break his promises.

It was late, and he knew Al would be worried, but he didn't have time to go and get him. Leaving the kitchen behind, Edward made it to the front door in a haze of sizzling fury. He didn't need to be reminded that he was a child, especially not from Mustang!

Roy remained sipping his coffee for a little while, watching little Ed rub against his ankles as the cat attempted taking his attention. He didn't succeed, his owner walking away and back upstairs.

The dogs tried to crowd him, all of them having woken up. He walked through them, toward his bedroom. They still whined, but when he reached the huge bed, they all jumped up and sat on it. Sighing, he pushed away Dozer and pulled the blankets apart. He needed sleep, then he'd track down Edward and explain the rest of the stuff.

One of the puppies whimpered as he lay down, soft little paw dropping onto his cheek. It was cool, he had to smile a little. "I'm fine." He told the pup, whom licked his nose in return.

He had to name the puppies eventually, so they wouldn't get used to being called 'Hey, you' or 'Furball'. The rest of the six puppies jumped around him and settled close to him.

See, this was why women could hardly stand coming to his place. They were all 'Omigawd, look at your place! It's so big.' Then the dogs would pour out and they would run away in a mess of lipstick and high heels.

He hadn't brought anyone home in a long time. Usually it was their place, and even then he just came home afterward.

Yawning, he turned over.

That resulted in him ending up face-first in a small pool of fur. He grunted, leaning back on his knees. "Okay." He said, the dogs all looked up. "Out. Now."

In two seconds, every dog except for the puppies had left. They hadn't received the same training as the others. They'd all had Hawkeye's 'special' training. It worked well.

Pushing a couple of them away, they scuttled around until Roy was lying down again and settled between his legs and on his back. They really were silly, these adorable dogs.

He loved them, he admitted. So cute. He loved dogs way too much, he decided as he was falling asleep. Then, dogs was replaced with a different word, a name.

But he fell asleep before he could think about it.

TBC

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Suqua:-3 Hope you enjoyed!


	2. Life

Deliver Me

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Chapter Two: Life

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Edward groaned and rolled over carefully. Sleeping on wood was so freaking uncomfortable. Heaving a sigh, he sat up.

The boat he had borrowed was small, and he swore it was giving him splinters. Floating down the river was not nearly as fun as everyone made it out to be. Then again, anyone who had ever told him about it hadn't been alone.

Picking up the large pole, he stood carefully and slipped the bottom into the water. It hit the bottom, and he gave a shove, urging the boat faster. If he couldn't sleep, he might as well make this entire thing faster. He shoved again, pushing until everything around him became a blur. It wasn't that he was going that fast, he'd simply stopped paying attention to it.

There was an Ishbalan camp down the river. He knew that. It wouldn't be long until he found it, and Scar. The stone. The only thing in the world that could put Al back into his body. He knew Scar would help, he had to. There was no other way.

Whether it was hours or minutes, Ed didn't know. The sun high above him, shedding light where he didn't want it. Grumbling, he pulled the pole out of the water.

Now what?

He glanced around him and stopped the boat with a jerk. There! The camp was some way back from the bank, but he saw the unmistakable shapes of tents, and people moving. That was it.

Turning the boat carefully, he pushed it toward land. When the boat hit the soft earth, he jumped out, barely taking the time to secure it away from the water. He was jogging for the camp before knew it, ignoring his fatigue to get there as fast as he could.

The first to see Edward was an old man, crushing a plant into a powder. He gasped, calling out something to his family. Word spread and quickly a group of men met the boy just outside the camp.

Most were holding weapons, looking cautious. These were the Ishbalans that hadn't met Edward Elric, the other camp that the group he'd met were joining.

One spoke. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm Edward Elric!" He skidded to a halt, glancing through the group to see if there was anyone he recognized. Finding none, Ed muffled a curse.

His hands landed on his hips, and he hoped that this wouldn't come down to a fight. If Scar had moved on, he would be outnumbered, without a chance of winning.

"I'm looking for Scar." Dammit, did that guy even have a real name?

"Scar?" The name echoed throughout the group, Edward's name as well. Then, they parted as a tall man walked through them. Eventually they dissipated and left them alone.

"It's been some time, Edward Elric." Scar said, staring at him through a pair of cracked sunglasses. He'd found a new pair.

"Yeah." Edward had never been more glad to see the tattooed man. "You have a few minutes?"

This was it. This was really it. If he could get Scar to go back with him, they could get back to the city and find Al.

A woman appeared beside one of the tents. "Scar...?" Her voice was questioning.

Turning to her, Scar's usual frown-non emotional expression changed slightly. "One moment."

The woman nodded, red gaze falling on Edward for a moment before walking away.

"What is it, Edward?" He asked, turning back to the boy as he removed his glasses.

"I've been doing some research..." Edward glanced around at the tent. "Are you sure it's safe to talk here? This is important."

He didn't want anyone to over hear. The last thing anyone needed was for word of the Philosopher's Stone getting out. He didn't think Scar wanted that either, but he couldn't explain until he knew everything was secure.

Scar would have told Edward that Ishbalans didn't gossip, but he wasn't sure if it was true. He started walking until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with the younger man. "Follow me." He said gruffly, walking forward into a deep grove of trees.

He didn't stop until he got to a log they could sit on. He was nervous about leaving Rosa alone for a long time...Hopefully she'd gone to see her sister or someone.

Edward sat immediately, legs sore. The automail always got stiff when he stayed still for too long, and it was good to move it and sit. He rested his elbows on his knees, gloved hands fisted as he leaned forward.

"I've been researching the Philosopher's Stone." He didn't wait for Scar's reaction, just plowed on. "I found a few books," Alright, so he was bending the truth, but only a little. "on a guy named Hilton. He was working on how to make the Stone, not find it."

He glanced over at Scar for the first time. "He did it, and the military killed him. Thing is, the Stone... it wasn't a rock. It was a man, and he ran before the military could take him. The way I figure it... when he ran away, he found somewhere to hide. He laid the base for the Ishbalans, and the secret of the Stone was lost."

Did Scar know what he was? He had to, by now. How couldn't he?

"Until you. I need your help."

Scar's eyes were sad, he stared back at Edward. "You speak of my grandfather." He said quietly. "The first living sin we'd known. Ishbala had forsaken him."

His hands gripped together. "We never speak of him anymore. My father was born just after my grandfather and grandmother were married." He stared up at the sky. "You want me to help you create a body for your brother, Edward."

He wasn't asking. He was telling, knowing.

"Please." Edward hated asking for things. Especially when he knew those were things he could repay. "I've tried, and I can't." It was even worse when they were things he couldn't do at all. "I need you to. I promised Al, and he's depending on me."

He grit his teeth. He had never been able to tell with Scar, whether the man was going to do something or walk away. He needed the help, and Scar was the only man who could do it. There was no other way. No way that Ed was willing to do. He'd tried creating a stone, and he'd failed. He couldn't sacrifice the lives of others. Not when... not...

Scar was silent, eyes shut in deep thought. "Edward..." He said finally, crimson eyes rising to meet his. "I cannot."

Before the boy could protest, beg, whatever...he continued. "I was not born with the complete Philosopher's Stone as my body. My brother was, but he used it terribly. With my ability, it would kill me to bring your brother's body back."

There was no shout from Edward, no demand to know why. He looked down, brow furrowing over dulled golden eyes. "That's it, then." All of it, done. It was settled. Al was stuck in that body for the rest of his life, and Edward wouldn't blame him one bit if he hated him. He had promised, again and again, and he couldn't do it.

Edward stood, hands loose at his side, head down. "I've got to get back. Sorry to have wasted your time." He started out of the clearing, hoping Scar would burst out with something, something he'd missed, something that could be done... But he knew it wouldn't come.

Everything was over. His goal... it was just one big dead end. He should have expected it from the beginning. This was God's way of rubbing it in his face one last time.

He was finished. He was going to go back to Mustang and turn in his watch. If he couldn't help Al, there was no point in anything anymore. And after he gave Mustang that stupid watch, he was going to visit his brother, and tell him that everything was done.

Scar stared after Edward, usual frown on his face with his brow furrowed slightly.

Then, he turned. "Are you sure he won't be mad?"

A dark form came from the trees. "Of course he'll be mad. He's always mad." The amused voice of Roy Mustang came forward as his figure did. A dark jacket was pulled over his shoulders.

"I think," Scar said, staring at him with a neutral expression. "That you're in love with him."

Roy shrugged.

Standing, Scar slipped his hands into his pockets. "You might not be as bad as I thought, Mustang."

Simply giving a slight wave, Roy was gone. Back to Central.

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Ed was tempted. Tempted to just get in the boat and let it carry him downstream. He regarded it flatly for a full minute before stepping in, picking up the pole, and giving a hard shove away from the bank. The boat immediately tried to go with the flow of the water, but Edward sunk the pole into the wet earth under the river and shoved.

The boat moved forward. He did it again. And again, and again until it all became mechanical to him. Like breathing. He didn't have to think about it.

He didn't have to think at all.

He lost himself in the movements for hours. Splash, thunk, shove. Again and again, until he stopped hearing, stopped feeling. That was what he wanted the most. To stop feeling.

It was hard to believe that after years of searching, years of struggle, he'd finally found the answer, and it was once again unreachable. Someone up there hated him, and Ed had a good idea who.

Well, God had gotten his way. Edward was through. He wanted nothing to do with the military anymore. He had no purpose... nothing. Mustang was right. He was just a child.

He almost missed the dock at Central, and would have proceeded right past it if the owner of the boat hadn't shouted to him. Ed blinked, looked up, and sighed. Right. He had to pay...

Tying the boat up, he dug through his pockets and paid with everything he found. It was more then enough, and he ignored the gleeful thanks of the boat owner, just shrugged his shoulders, hunched down, and began the slow walk back to Headquarters.

It was late when he reached the steps. Nearly dark. He started up them blindly, nearly running face first into the door before he remembered it was there. Pushing it open, Edward sighed. The building was being shut down, but he knew Mustang would still be around. He had to be, or Ed would find him at home. No matter what, he was finishing this - now.

It'd been somewhat of a challenge to get back to Central before Edward, but somehow Roy managed. He pushed the door to his office open, pulled his jacket off and tossed it in the closet on one side. Then, he messed up the papers on his desk before sitting down in his chair and grabbing a pen.

Last, he messed up his hair a little. Because it was wet from the river splashing him and he'd rather it look messy like he'd just woken up. Yawning softly, he leaned back to wait.

If he was right, Scar had already done what he'd promised.

Before the office door was all the way open, Edward had his watch off. He stood just inside, tossing the silver trinket onto Roy's desk. His throat was tight, and his eyes stung, but he didn't let on, glaring weakly at Roy from across the room.

He couldn't speak, couldn't even manage a 'I'm finished.' All he could do was stare at Roy, sure he'd gotten the point.

He wanted to cry, and scream, and hide in a corner. He wanted to shout his anger out at everyone who had ever gotten in his way. He wanted to know why, why nothing could work out, why he couldn't help Al...

But Roy had already made it clear that what he wanted couldn't govern the actions of others.

Roy said nothing, watching him. His hand went up, curling around the silver pocket watch and his thumb ran over the symbol on top.

Opening a drawer, he dropped it inside.

And leaned back again, watching the boy with an uninterested expression. That was the hardest thing to do. What he really wanted to do was take the watch and throw it hard enough to bruise.

But, that wasn't possible. It would ruin everything.

Oh, God...

Edward clenched his jaw, eyes stinging angrily. He blinked, and he could feel the tears coming up.

Hell no. He wasn't going to cry.

Fingers curling into fists, he gave Roy a jerky bow - the first in years. Then he turned, leaving the office door open as he escaped. He didn't want to do this anymore... All he wanted now was to be left alone.

Only a moment after Edward had left, Roy opened the drawer again and picked out the only watch in there. Standing, he pocketed it and went to get his jacket again.

After waiting a good minute, just in case, he summoned Havoc from the break room and told him he needed to drive.

Edward was well away from Roy's office before he felt his resolve breaking. He was struggling for breath, leaning heavily against the wall. He was only a few steps away from the door that would lead him into his and Al's room.

He would have to face his brother, something he didn't want to do. He would tell Al it was over, and that they were going to have to go home, because the military wasn't going to continue to support them. Edward didn't want to. He really didn't, but it was time to stop running away from the truth.

He didn't want to do it, but he had to.

Scrubbing his face with both gloved hands, pulling in deep, steadying breaths. He wasn't going to let himself cry. He couldn't do that to Al, so he would have to keep it in.

Edward calmed slowly, enough to steel himself and take the short steps to the door. He pulled it open, reluctance in his every movement and stepped inside.

The room was dark, like Al had been so worried he couldn't even turn on the lights. Ed wouldn't blame him... He'd been gone for two days, without word... Al was probably frantic. It wouldn't surprise him if his brother was out looking for him now, instead of in the room.

There was silence in the room, except for the faint whisper of wind from outside. The shades were drawn at the windows, the room completely black. There was nothing, a soft noise. Then, a pair of strong arms grabbed Edward from behind.

"Don't move." A ragged voice from behind him said, "If you want your brother to live."

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TBC

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Suqua: Yes, a bit of a cliffhanger. Mmm-hmm. So, what's Roy up to? And who's this dude threatening Al? Who knows, eh?

Oh…yeaaaaah. Chapters will be shorter than the first one. :-P Just so you know. That one we forgot to end right away so it remained long. Whoo!


	3. Renewal

Deliver Me

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Chapter Three: Renewal

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Eyes widening, Edward froze. His hands were loose at his sides, but he could feel them itching. Twitching to do something to get this asshole off of him.

"What did you do with Al?"

Much to his chagrin, his voice shook. He was scared, scared that something had happened to his brother. The brother he had promised to protect and take care of. Who now, because of his foolishness, was in danger by some nameless maniac. A soft chuckle came from the man behind him. "Nothing, just yet. Depends on your cooperation."

He paused, waiting to see if Edward would respond by hurting him or what. "Take off your automail." He commanded.

The reaction was hard and fast.

Edward's hands clenched, his right arm pulled forward, and his elbow jammed back. The blow caught the man at a glance, hitting him in the side. It was just enough for the arms to loosen, if barely, and Edward pulled his body away from the man behind him.

He nearly tripped as he pushed to the middle of the room, free of the restraining arms, but off balance. Spinning around to glare at his would-be captor, Edward growled.

The light was in the wrong angle for him to catch sight of the man's face. He didn't know who this guy thought he was, or what he had done with Al, but the fact that he had even threatened to touch his brother was enough to really piss Ed off.

"What did you do with Al?" He repeated, with obvious anger. He could feel it gathering in the pit of his stomach like some sick perversion of a snake; ready to strike out at anyone who got too close.

"Like I've already said...Nothing, yet," the man said. He stepped into the room, shutting the door. "It depends on what you do now."

The room was plagued by darkness, only faint beams of light coming from the slits at the sides of the window. The slightest bit of light allowed both Edward and the unknown man a bit of a basis on where each other were.

"What do you want?" Edward glanced toward the two beds in the room. The couch behind him, chair in the corner... Everything was there, and it didn't look like there had been a fight... But that left only one question in his mind.

Where was Al?

Others followed that question. Questions like "Is he alright?" and "Who is this guy, anyway?" Unanswerable questions, until he had enough information to bust out and find his brother.

The man stared at him. "Your automail." He said, "Either you use those tools," He pointed at the table, "Or I can."

There was just enough light for him to make out Edward's face. He was confused, angry, and all things that made the boy want to kill him.

How much would it take for him to launch himself backwards over the couch? Edward had to wonder. It would be hard from a stand still, but he could do it...

"Why?" He asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

He couldn't glance behind him; he couldn't move to let the man know what he was doing. Ed would have to trust his luck. If he underestimated, he would end up flat on his back on the other side of the couch.

"No questions. No moving besides toward the tools." The man pulled something from his pocket. With a flick of his thumb, a scratchy radio sound filled the room. He pushed something; a beeping sound took over before the scratch came back. Then, there was a voice.

"Brother? You there? Do as he says, please!"

Al's voice.

"Al?" Edward's eyes widened, and he had to force himself not to run at the man. "Al! Are you okay? Where are you?"

All of the panic, the stress, was making Edward giddy. He felt dizzy, light headed. And he felt angry.

"Let him go! He never did anything to you!" He shouted at the man, almost beyond his own control.

"Did he?" The man said thoughtfully. "I think he deserves exactly what he gets."

He brought the walkie-talkie to his lips. "Get ready." He said into it before letting his hand fall to his side.

Standing expectantly, the man watched Edward through the thick dark of the room.

"Don't hurt him!" Edward's voice was desperate, shaking.

He moved cautiously to the side, picking up one of the tools. His hand was shaking, but he hardly noticed as he pulled off his jacket. The shirt came next, and he started to unscrew his arm. The screws holding it in place landed on the table, and he pulled the limb off.

The man watched him, a dull expression on his hidden face. Thankfully, the darkness was hiding his appearance.

He spoke into the walkie-talkie again. "Hold on." He said, waiting for Edward to remove his leg.

It was always harder to get off his leg. Edward couldn't stand doing it, just like he couldn't stand asking for favors, or being threatened. And what made it worse was the bastard was threatening Al. No one got away with that.

He collapsed onto the couch, working his pants down at a crooked angle. It was hard to get into the right position with the screwdriver, but he managed, working out the screws he could reach. He had to arch his back and turn to the side to reach the ones in the back, and when he was finished, he was hard pressed to pull the leg free.

It landed on the ground with a loud thump. Edward tossed the screwdriver after it, holding himself up with one arm. "Where's Al?"

"Somewhere safe." The man said, grinning. He walked forward, palms facing toward the boy. He cracked his knuckles, one at a time.

Then, he pulled a pen from his pocket. "Hold still." He said, uncapping it as he stood in front of Edward.

Glaring up at the man, Edward entertained only briefly the thought of shouting help. It would be useless. It was late so no one would be awake. They wouldn't hear him.

And what the fuck was with the pen?

"Where is he?" Dammit, he didn't care what happened to him, as long as he knew Al would be all right!

"Somewhere safe." The man repeated, one calloused hand holding onto Edward's chin as the pen touched his forehead.

Quickly, he drew a circle and something else. Then, he let his hands drop and he capped the pen. "This will hurt a bit."

His hands clapped together, he breathed in before his palm touched Edward's forehead. A bright light flashed, the red flickering.

Edward would have continued to glare, but his eyes shut as the hand touched his forehead.

Immediately, he lost sense of himself. He was floating. At least, that was what it felt like. Every nerve on his body tingled, and then burned, and he cried out in pain. His body writhed, trying to pull away from the press on his forehead, the only part of him that was cemented in reality.

He had never felt anything like this. The pain reared and swallowed him whole, though it was dimmed, as if it couldn't possibly hurt that much. Not even connecting automail to his body had hurt quite like this. Losing his limbs was no comparison. This was the worst torture Ed had ever had to endure.

He hoped Al hadn't suffered like this, and he hoped he was all right. He hoped this would end soon, and he could just die in peace.

The air around them because thick and gelatinous, like swallowing water. The man muttered something, and his grip increased.

Then, something happened. Light replaced the places where Edward's automail arm and leg had been, blinding red light that made it impossible to look at.

The light overwhelmed for a moment before fading.

A flesh-and-blood arm and leg replaced the light.

Grunting softly, the man dropped to his knees as if he'd been drained of the ability to do so.

When everything faded, Edward didn't know if he was happy to be alive. He curled into a ball on the couch, arms hugging his knees to his chest.

Wait.

Arms?

His eyes opened, and he stared. Just stared. Slowly, his fingers flexed, feeling rubbery and useless. He uncurled, brow furrowed. How had...

"Scar?" His confused frown deepened, and he tried to brace himself with the new arm. It collapsed from under him, and he winced, catching himself with the other.

"You'll be weak for a while." The man said, "And no, but very close. My son is dealing with your brother. Say hello."

The walkie-talkie buzzed. "Brother!" The voice said in greeting, this time less scratchy.

"Al!" Edward tried to reach for the radio and fell off the couch, landing hard on the floor. Groaning, he pushed himself up, using both arms. "Are you okay? Where are you? Are you... Is Scar with you?"

That bastard! Had he lied? Ed couldn't understand why there was reason to lie about something like that. It wasn't something to be trivialized, and if Scar had lied...

"Yeah, he's holding the phone up to my...mouth..." Al's voice said, "Oh! Brother! I have a MOUTH! I can talk like a regular person!"

Scar's father rubbed his eyes, a slightly wrinkled hand lifting. "Your brother's body will take a short amount of time to grow used to being in this world." He said, voice quiet. There was a faint amount of resemblance in it to Scar's.

Scar's voice came through the walkie-talkie. "I'm here as well, but I can hardly move at all. It took two of my father's brothers and I to do this. One has passed out, probably for the next couple days. And the other has not been able to move his arm for several hours."

The man stared at Edward again. "I told you, your brother deserved what he got. So did you."

Leaning back against the couch, Edward gripped his right shoulder with his left hand. He had a grin on his face, one he didn't try to wipe off. He looked down at man beside him.

"Thank you." It was so weird to feel skin under his fingers. He was so used to metal, so...

He started to push himself up, steadying his weight with the limbs he was sure of. "Can you take me to Al?" What would it be like, to see Al, instead of armor? Would he know how to act?

Would Al still feel the same? Sound the same? How would he look, act... Edward had so many questions, and his brother could only answer all.

"I'm an old man, Elric." The man said, shaking his head. "Unlike Scar, I don't think I'll be able to walk for a while. He'll bring your brother here soon enough. They're only at a small house outside of town. While I could use a small circle on your forehead, his required much more time and effort."

He motioned for the boy to sit down. "Just wait. I would assume you'd like to know why we didn't just tell you before? Your heart." He pointed at Edward's chest. "In order for this to work just right, your heart rate needed to be up quite a bit so that we'd know your blood was pumping enough that the new limbs would begin to run blood through the new veins."

Leaning down, Edward wrapped his strong arm around the old man's shoulders. He pulled up with no small amount of effort, helping the Ishbalan onto the couch.

That made sense, and he understood a little better. At least, far more then he would have if he'd been left in the dark. He was still angry. He could have been told! Did they think he was too young to understand? He wasn't a fool! He could take care of himself!

"When was this planned?" Edward glanced back at the man as he took a few unsteady steps.

Easing onto the couch with a soft sigh, the old man relaxed. "A short time ago. It took Scar and I years of training to even maintain this power and keep it under complete control. For the past year, we've kept this kind of strength in reserve to prepare for this." He shook his head. "I don't remember the man's real name, but he had the darkest eyes and hair. He asked for a favor, something to redeem his father for the sin he had created when he'd changed my father."

He watched the boy walk. "It will be uncomfortable for a short time, trust me. It will only take a day or so to make the movements strong, just a longer time to grow used to being able to."

Smiling slightly, the man peered through the still-dark room. "Forgive me for before, it was one of the few ways to increase your blood pressure. Fear is the fastest way."

Edward shook his head, looking around for his discarded shirt. His boot hit the automail leg, and he stumbled. Falling onto hands and knees, Edward bit back a curse. His fingers found his shirt, and he sat up, pulling it over his head.

"Don't worry about it." He muttered, pushing himself up again. Just because the limbs were new didn't mean he was going to give them a break. He had to be as fully functional as he was twenty minutes before. "How's your side?" He gestured on himself, at the place where his elbow would have landed.

Dark hair and eyes... Hell, that could be anyone. Sighing, Ed ran his hands through the hair that wasn't tied back in his braid. He still had his gloves on, he realized. Tugging the off, he stared at his hands through the dark.

His alchemy had relied on his metal arm, would he still be able to transmute without a circle? He didn't want to try yet. There would be time later, after everything was settled, and he'd seen Al.

"Don't worry about it." The old man said, shaking his head. "I'm fine. Scar warned me you might fight back so..." He lifted his shirt, revealing a hard bulletproof vest. "I came prepared."

Sighing softly, he pulled out the walkie-talkie and spoke into it. "Scar. I trust you're bringing the boy here."

There was an answer almost immediately. "Yes. We'll be there soon."

Al was coming. Edward felt nerves pool in his stomach, making him anxious and jittery. He didn't know what to do with himself, and standing in the middle of the room was hardly his ideal occupation.

Crossing the room, he lit the lamps in the corners, filling the empty spaces with orange light. He felt a little better, with something to do, and preceded to pick up the screws and limbs he had thrown on the floor.

His throat was tight, preventing speech. He had to try twice before he found his voice. "So... someone besides me came and asked you to do this?" He frowned, the fingers of his left hand trailing lightly over those of his right.

The touch tickled, but he didn't stop it. He hadn't felt anything with his right arm for nearly five years. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like, and he knew already that reactions from that side of his body were going to be slow. Some things just needed to be built up. Like alchemy. Starting with a basic circle, you add more and more until the circle is so complex you wonder how you ever created it.

That was all he would have to do. Build up the muscle and strength; keep him from ever giving up.

"Yes. One year ago." The man said, staring at the boy. In the light, he looked vaguely like Scar, with wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. "He came asking for our help, pleaded."

He shook his head. "We did not officially accept until Scar stepped in."

Suddenly he realized. "I have forgotten. My name is Red."

An entire year. Edward looked down at his hands, frowning. If Hilton was such a huge taboo, how could someone else, besides Havoc and Mustang know about him? Sure, there was the Fuhrer, and whoever had been assigned to destroy the files, but otherwise...

He nodded in response to the man's introduction, wondered vaguely if odd names ran in Scar's family, and lost himself in the subject at hand. His fingers tapped together, and his eyes clouded with thought.

Red had described the man to have the 'darkest hair and eyes.' Well, that would suggest black, wouldn't it? There wasn't anything darker then black.

"Mustang." He breathed, then immediately dismissed the notion. That was crazy. He'd never seen that bastard plead for anything.

The door opened, Scar stepped inside. He noted his father and Edward, turning around. A second later, he was pushing a body in a wheelchair through the door. A tall one, sporting the same color hair as Trisha Elric. "Brother!" Al said excitedly, "Look at me! And you! Your arm and leg are back!"

Scar stepped aside, allowing the boys a moment as he sat next to his father. He looked tired, alive, but tired.

"Al!" Edward's eyes widened. He had spun around as soon as the door open, expression open and hopeful. Now he sported the biggest smile he had ever had in his life.

In an instant, he was crouched in front of Al's wheelchair, both hands on the armrests. Words seemed to be completely beyond him, and after a few seconds of staring, he pulled Al into a hug.

He could feel the warmth of Al's skin underneath the baggy clothing the boy wore, and the thrum of life that surrounded him was nearly overwhelming. This was Al. Not some dream, fabrication... This really was his brother.

Tears gathering at his eyes, Al hugged Edward back in as strong a grip as he could muster. "Brother..." He said softly. "You...you're so warm."

He could feel, touch, taste, and smell...everything! It made him want to cry, and since he hadn't done that for real in so long...he let himself.

Because now he could. He cried, holding onto his brother.

Letting out a laugh, one that was a little choked, Edward squeezed his eyes shut. "You are too..." He blinked his eyes open again and pulled back, clearing his throat.

He leaned back again, looking up at Al. His eyes were shining, but if he wouldn't let himself cry before, he certainly wasn't going to now. "Are you okay?"

It wasn't a question about the tears. He had to know that Al wasn't hurt, in any way, because after this, he was never going to let his brother be hurt again.

"I'm fine, brother." Al said, smiling. "I have a body, I'm human again." He shut his eyes. "It only hurt when the body was new, but that's all melted away now. I'm so...happy."

His smile couldn't have been any wider.

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TBC

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Suqua: Not a long wait, neh? We're so nice. XP


	4. Rebirth

Deliver Me

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Chapter Four: Rebirth

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Red and Scar had been talking, a soft plop announced that Red had fallen asleep on his son's shoulder. Probably for at least a day, seeing as how much energy he'd already used.

Standing, Edward ruffled Al's hair affectionately. He wasn't going to leave his brother for long, but... there was something he needed to do, before he spent time with Al.

He stopped in front of Scar, arms crossed over his chest. "Thank you." It wasn't exactly reluctant, but Ed had never been particularly good putting words to feelings. "I know you lied, but..." He sighed. Dammit. "You didn't have to do this. So... thanks."

Still looking as he always was, Scar appeared disinterested. "I did not lie. I could not bring your brother back. Alone, at least. And it would have killed me to try to."

He didn't appear to notice the boy's thanks, instead staring down at his father. "It was somewhat of a favor to someone I knew a long while back. And I dislike watching a man get on his knees and beg for help."

Okay. They kept mentioning this guy, and Edward could only take a few mentions before he started to dig.

"Who was he?"

Just as Scar had ignored his thanks, Edward was ignoring Scar's point. Yeah, it probably would have killed him to bring Al back on his own, but Edward was going to plead selective hearing, though everyone knew he knew what the conscequences would be.

"The son of Robert Hilton, the man who created the human Philosopher's Stone." Scar said quietly, watching Edward with crimson eyes. "Not many knew about his son, the result of his brief love affair with Catherine Mustang."

His father snored softly on his shoulder.

The slight widening of his eyes was the only sign of Edward's surprise. That hadn't been in Mustang's research, and no surprise, if the real conclusion was what Ed was beginning to believe. But it was hard, imagining Mustang getting down on his knees and begging for anything.

Then his brow furrowed, honestly confused. "Why would Mustang beg for you to help me?"

He could see Roy begging for a date, maybe, but to help him? It was too farfetched. He had to be thinking of the wrong guy.

"I am not the one you should be asking." Scar said, staring sideways at him.

Starting to stand up, he eased Red to lie back, the old man grumbled softly before turning and lying down on his side.

Al had stopped crying, now wiping away his tears. "It's because..." He said, sniffling. "He cares about you."

Turning to face his brother, Edward's expression was incredulous. "Al, he hates me!"

Well, maybe that wasn't entirely true. If Mustang hated him, he never would have allowed him the use of his research, documents which were probably more dangerous then most of the forbidden alchemy that could be readily tapped into.

"No, he doesn't." Al insisted. "Whenever you go off somewhere, he worries! Everyone in the office says he spaces out and stuff whenever you go on a mission!"

Scar interrupted easily and quietly. "I would actually possibly switch the word 'cares' to 'loves'. A man does not beg for someone he simply 'cares' for."

Edward was beginning to wish he really did have selective hearing. Worrying? Love? Mustang?

Those words should never have been applied in the same conversation.

"You're both crazy." Edward decided with finality. "Mustang doesn't care about me, and he definitely doesn't love me. And even if he did - which he doesn't! - he won't have to worry about me anymore, because I quit."

Again, yes, but he really meant it this time.

"You really shouldn't go about speaking other people's opinions like they are your own."

Roy stepped into the room, smirking ever so slightly. "You never know, you might not know the truth."

Havoc had been a damn drunkard and left Roy to find Edward's house. Which he hadn't known the address to.

Groaning, Edward buried his face in his hands. "You've got to be fucking joking."

And yet... His stomach knotted. He knew what that meant. He was nervous, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

He had no reason to be nervous around Mustang. He had stood the guy down before. Hell! He'd punched him hard enough to bruise not two days before. He had no reason to be nervous.

What if Al and Scar were right? Edward's brow furrowed again as he thought, an unconscious habit that he didn't know he had. There was the cat, after all. The same one that he and Al had left in front of someone's house all those years before. And unless its collar had been lying, Mustang had named it Edward.

After him.

And outside, on the street? Mustang had gotten in his face, and not the regular way that Ed could deal with, but literally in his face. Inches away. Not even inches! Less then that.

Now Edward's disbelief was directed at himself, too.

"Unfortunately, no." Roy said with another small smirk. "But I can only be here for a minute, have a lot of work to do at home."

He turned to Al. "Well, Alphonse, it looks like you're a bit taller than your older brother..."

Al turned a bit red. "Ummm...yeah..."

Roy would have said something about needling Edward about that in the future, but he couldn't. Since he wouldn't be seeing the Elric brothers that much from now on.

Next, he went over to Scar, lip twitching. "Your father all right?" He asked, receiving a nod. "And you?" Another nod.

Scar glanced at the outside. "It looked like it was going to start raining. Did you bring an umbrella, Mustang?" He asked, staring at him with his red eyes.

Shaking his head, Roy shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"I heard your car break down while I was walking here with Alphonse."

"I'll be fine."

Last, he went to Edward. "Here." He said, taking Edward's new human hand and his other one. He placed Edward's old pocket watch there carefully. "We can't use it, what with your little inscription inside." He said, "And if we melt it down, the alchemic qualities die. So, go ahead and keep it."

And with that, he turned to go, walking out into the rain.

Staring blankly down at the watch for a long second, Edward shot a glance at Al. "I'll be right back..." He didn't bother to pick up his jacket as he ran out after Roy.

"Hey!" He didn't know what to shout for a name. Mustang? Colonel? Bastard?

Roy?

"Wait up, dammit!" His leg felt weak as he ran to catch up to Roy, rain already soaking through his shirt. It was cold, but he barely noticed. The water didn't seem to matter to him.

His fingers were still curled around the watch, and Edward was suddenly at odds with himself. He had quit, there was no reason for him to be out in the rain, running after Mustang. He wasn't a part of the military anymore, there was no point...

Roy stopped, black hair sticking to his forehead and face. A drop of water fell from his nose, his chin, and off of his eyelashes. It appeared as though he were crying, but of course, Roy was not. He turned completely, waiting until Edward had ran to him and stepped forward to close the gap.

One arm went around Edward's waist, the other caressed his cheek. Leaning over, he covered the boy's mouth with his own as his arm pulled him forward and forced his back to curve.

He wasn't thinking rationally. Not in the least.

Oh. That was why he'd gone after Roy. That made more sense now, though Edward was sure he would be kicking himself later.

His arms went up, around Roy's neck. Eyes shut, lips parted, Edward was already thinking about how he would beat himself up. He was kissing Roy Mustang, in the rain. He supposed the rain had nothing to do with the kiss, but it brought his attention farther away from Roy's lips, and more to the drop of cold water snaking down his back.

Slowly, Roy brought his face away from Edward's, bending down a moment later to kiss his forehead. Then, he let go with a small twitch in his lips that could have been called a smile.

He touched the boy's cheek before his lips murmured a soft 'good-bye'.

Turning back toward the street, he began walking away once again.

Edward wrapped his arms around himself, watching Roy go with raw confusion on his face. The rain ceased to matter; all he could focus on was the blue jacket that was rapidly receding from his sight. Then it was gone, and Ed was left alone in the rain.

Cold, confused, and wet, he turned slowly, his new leg feeling weaker then the water pouring down on him. It was with a slight, nearly invisible limp that he made his way back up the sidewalk, and into the house.

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xxx

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It was the third day in a row that Roy had sent a messenger to work saying he wouldn't be coming in. The paperwork on his desk was building up, he'd missed five meetings.

The current messenger was a young man, timid looking and fearful as he walked slowly into the main office in Central. In his hand was a note signed by the Fuhrer himself stating that he was 'feeling ill' and could not come in that day.

The boy stared at the desk of Riza Hawkeye, the woman of the same name seated at it. He'd heard about what had happened to the other boys who'd left messages...And they weren't pleasant. In fact, he'd heard that they involved guns.

Gulping, he walked forward. "A...a message from the Fuhrer." He said, holding the note out at a full arm's length.

Hawkeye looked up, impatient and clearly annoyed. Taking the note, she read it quickly and stood from her desk. It was the third day Roy had neglected to show up at his desk, and this was the third note that she had the inclination to tear to pieces.

Tearing the note would get her nowhere, and leave her with increased frustration. Ignoring the messenger save for a dismissing order, she was around her desk and out the door in a matter of seconds. Steps, sidewalks, and corners blurred into one as she marched purposefully for one Roy Mustang's residence.

He was not getting away with this.

The door opened, a man stood there. Some kind of butler or something. Several of the dogs came out, the cat strode up to Hawkeye and rubbed against her leg. He liked her.

"He is in the courtyard, ma'am." The man said, bowing and waving her inside. He knew better than to instruct Hawkeye that Roy was not accepting visitors.

There was a black cloud rising from the center of the house, where the courtyard was. Smoke.

Nodding her thanks at the butler, Hawkeye didn't look down at Edward. He would either follow her, or go off and sulk. Striding through the house, she stopped just inside the courtyard.

"Roy!" They had known each other long enough now; he should have known better then to try to avoid her. He was either avoiding the judgment he knew would come, or work.

Both were likely.

Roy was tossing yet another book onto the fire, a couple already burning. "Hello, Riza." He said over his shoulder.

He'd figured she'd had enough by now.

Turning, he picked up another book from a stone bench and tossed it from the rest. Dozens more were as well. "I hope you're not going to arrest me for burning books. It's necessary for me to get on with life."

Several of the books had the last name 'HILTON' written in fancy cursive. Journal-type leather bound books that smelled disgusting while they burned. Roy didn't seem to notice.

She sighed as she stepped into the courtyard, expression softening almost imperceptibly. "It doesn't take three days to burn your library, Roy."

That was what he looked to be doing. The pile of books on the bench was large, some stacked behind it. She knew his library was extensive, she had been the one to pull him out of it several times before, but it looked as if he was trying to burn an entire wing.

He may as well have set fire to the house.

"No, but it takes three days to build up the nerve to burn my father's entire life." Roy said, tossing another one onto the fire. Thick clouds of burning leather made the outdoor room almost suffocating.

He tried to feel nothing as he dumped another load onto the fire. All the research journals that he'd saved, papers that had taken forever to decipher. Only four people on this planet had read them...until Edward Elric decided to research the Deliverance Alchemist.

Flakes of burned paper began to rise up to the sky, toward the sun. It was as though they were reaching for heaven...

Sighing softly, Roy threw two of his own research papers onto the pile. "I was supposed to dispose of these years ago, anyway."

No... If he had wanted it burned, a simple snap would have done it, and the entire wing would have been up in smoke. There was something deeper then that, and Hawkeye had the sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't tell her without a fight.

And that seemed to be the basis of their friendship.

There was some part of her that didn't want to know. She was curious, of course, but her own curiosity aside, she did not want to know what was in those books, and what was making Roy so distressed.

Stepping past the benches with all the intent and purpose of a military woman, she did the last thing she had ever expected herself to do. Her arms wrapped around Roy in a brief, stiff hug, like she wasn't quite sure what the action meant.

Roy sure wasn't expecting that, turning slightly. Then he smiled a little. "Thanks." He said softly, staring at her.

He had to go back to work soon. He couldn't keep away for long. "I suppose...if you're going to just drag me to the office..." He said, turning to the remaining books. From his pocket he pulled a glove out and slipped it onto his hand.

Leading Hawkeye away from them, they were soon smoking with the rest of them. "But before I leave I need to feed the animals."

The butler-y person strode up to the pile of smoking, burning books and sprayed them with a fire extinguisher. He'd have to call a crew to haul them away...

Roy wasn't going to let the butler feed his 'babies'. They didn't really trust anyone else.

Following Roy back into the house, through halls and up stairs into the kitchen, Hawkeye determindly ignored her actions. It wasn't unusual for her to do things around Roy that she wouldn't normally do, and she had decided early on that she simply wouldn't think about them.

The dogs swarmed around them, and a yowl from behind them made the sea of canines part. Edward all but trotted down the aisle of dogs, clearly proud of himself.

Hawkeye smiled inwardly, bending down to pick up the small cat. He really was just like his namesake.

"He's such a brat." Roy said over his shoulder, staring at little Edward. He wasn't sure who he was talking about right then. "All the dogs are afraid of him, except the puppies. And for some reason, he doesn't seem to mind when they crawl all over him."

Those six were actually jumping at his feet right then. He picked up a small can. "Catfood." He said, showing it to the cat. "It's your favorite, tuna."

He unscrewed it, turning it into a small, clear glass dish. "Come and get it, Ed."

The rest of the dog food came next, into at least two dozen different bowls each with the dog's name. Except for the puppies, though, who hadn't been named just yet. "What should I name them...?" He wondered aloud, scratching one behind the ears as she lapped up her meat food.

"Let's go." He said to Hawkeye, picking up his jacket. Time for work.

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TBC

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Suqua: WHEE!


	5. Cold

Deliver Me

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Chapter Five: Cold

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Work was over, Roy was home. He'd gone past the dogs and had gotten upstairs.

He tugged off the tie that kept the jacket of his military uniform just right. He tossed it onto the couch, peering around the room. There were few sounds, except for a few snores from one of many of his pets on the floor and chairs.

Sighing softly, he stared at every mass of fur, looking for a familiar orange.

He didn't see it. In fact, Ed hadn't come to greet him at the door that day. No piercing meow...and the dogs were still sleeping. Usually Ed woke them up and had them charging at him when he came in the door.

Not today...

Okay, he was officially worried.

He rushed through the house, checking each room upstairs and downstairs. Calling out the cat's name, he strained to hear that familiar screech of a sound. But again, nothing.

That meant...that Ed had gotten outside, was wandering around alone. And...in the rain! It'd only been a light shower and now...

Shit!

Forgetting to grab his jacket, Roy ran out the door into the pouring rain in search of his cat.

It was wet. Cold. Absolutely freezing, and Ed didn't like it. Wet and cold were some of his least favorite things, after needles, maybe.

Three days since he'd gotten his limbs back. Three days since he and Roy had... well, yeah. The rain hadn't let up much. It had drizzled over night, and now it was pouring again.

Edward was fast deciding that he hated rain.

Earlier that day, he had been surprised to hear a yowl from his front door. He'd thought for a minute it was some stray, but one he'd opened the door...

It was the cat. Roy's. The one named Edward. He couldn't figure out why it would come to him, or how he had known where he lived, but there was Ed. And he just seemed all too delighted to be there.

"Hey!" The orange tail he'd been following for what felt like hours disappeared around a corner, and Edward skidded to a stop. He could hear footsteps, but those didn't seem important. The cat had stopped, head turned to look over his shoulder at Edward. Muffling a curse, Edward ran to catch up, and the footsteps at the other end of the street grew louder.

"EDWARD!" Roy called out, hair whipping around his forehead wetly. Through the streets he ran, rounding corners and searching for the cat that had gotten away.

He growled under his breath, thinking of just how sick that cat would get in this cold. His white shirt clung to his chest and he found himself wishing he'd remembered a jacket or something.

"EDWARD!" He yelled again, "ED-" He stopped partially into the name.

There!

A tail!

He sped up, rounding a corner and ran right into one of the last and first person he wanted to see.

"What?" Edward snapped in response to his name, standing and turning around with the cat in his arms. Even wet and bedraggled, the small animal purred loudly, rubbing his head against Edward's chest.

Oh. Edward clenched his jaw. He didn't know what to say, faced with a very wet Mustang. His own shirt, the black sleeveless tank top he usually wore under his jacket was soaked. He'd bolted when the cat ran, chasing after it to keep Ed out of the rain.

A wet cat could get so sick it was fatal. No matter how much he didn't like Roy (He absolutely refused to admit to anything else), he didn't want his cat hurt.

Roy didn't have time to freak out that he'd just run into Edward. Instead he stared at the boy for a moment before his eyes found the wet cat in his arms. "Shit!" He hissed, reaching for him and holding him up. He was shaking.

He could tell that Edward's home was farther away from here, that his was a bit closer. "Come on." He said, holding his cat close to his chest to keep him at least somewhat warm. Ed meowed quietly.

Shuddering himself, Edward hugged his arms around his middle. He tried to hold back a sneeze, covering his mouth as his shoulders shook. No... He refused to get sick.

"I'll just... go..." He lowered his hand and took a step back, away from Roy, who looked sinfully warm, and toward the sidewalk.

If he got home, he wouldn't have to deal with this, and he could get warm again. As long as he didn't get sick, it wouldn't matter.

"Don't make me pick you up too, Fu - Edward," Roy said, "Just come on."

Taking a step forward and reaching out, he pulled on the boy's arm and pulled him toward him so that they could at least conserve body heat. For the most part, Roy was completely soaked. He was half in uniform, his jacket sitting on the couch in his home.

And he started walking.

Edward sneezed violently, leaning against Roy to hold himself up. When they started moving, he straightened, groaning under his breath. Ugh. He felt like crap.

He let Roy lead him, thankful for the added warmth at his side, even if it was damp. He hardly realized where he was until they were at Roy's house, and he could hear the dogs barking and whining from inside.

Roy had one arm wrapped around the cat as to keep the poor thing warm and another around Edward to keep the boy up.

As soon as they were at his door, he sighed in relief before opening it. The dogs knew well enough not to go outside (they all hated rain, actually) so they didn't jump out. But it seemed they were worried about little Ed.

"I'll start a fire in the main library room after I get some dry clothes," Roy said, pointing at a door across from them. "It was supposed to be a living room."

He let go of the younger man before starting to walk upstairs with Ed in his arms. He needed to get the cat wrapped up in a towel or something.

Rubbing weakly at his nose with a hand that used to be made of metal, Edward nodded and started for the door. His legs shook, prickled from the cold outside and the warmth of the dogs pressing around him. Lacking the energy to push them aside, Edward let them guide him into the room, and it was their fuzzy weight that kept him from falling all the way to the couch.

There, he collapsed. The puppies scrambled to get up, and in seconds, Edward was covered in six warm, golden bodies. He hardly noticed, one hand resting lightly on the puppy that had stretched out to cover his abdomen.

It was warm, and it was that warmth that seduced him pulled him down into a sick kind of sleep.

Roy wrapped Ed in a towel; the cat stopped shivering as he rubbed it dry. Picking him up again, he went into his upstairs bedroom and got two thick blankets and tossed them from the stairs to the entrance of the house.

Then, he grabbed some of his extra clothes (big on Edward, but...) and started back down. He picked up one of the blankets as he went into the room. An adorable site met him, his puppies all snoozing around Edward and the boy lying there asleep.

Well...Roy hated to disturb the sight but if he was left in those wet clothes, the boy would surely catch a cold. Sighing softly at the sin he was about to commit, Roy gently woke up the puppies and picked them up one after the other as he was careful to be gentle.

There wasn't any time for him to think any perverted thoughts about how he'd be undressing him, so Roy pushed them away as he undid the boy's boots and pulled them from his feet along with his socks. Next, he paused before tugging on Edward's shirt.

Shit. He couldn't get them off, since the younger man was lying in such a way that made it impossible. Mumbling to himself, Roy let his hand underneath the boy's back and lifted him up a little hoping to death that he wouldn't wake up.

Groaning in his sleep, Edward buried his face in Roy's shoulder. His arms wrapped around the body holding him up, soaking up the warmth unconsciously. His legs pulled up, and he was nearly curled into a ball in Roy's lap.

He squeezed his eyes tighter shut, fighting against waking up. No... He didn't want to wake up. He wanted to stay asleep, where it was warm, and he didn't have to worry about anything.

Roy could have smiled, blushed, laughed...but he didn't. For a second, his arm curled around Edward's side and held him close. Then, carefully, he unbuttoned the boy's pants and pushed them down his hips. Grabbing the blanket, he covered him with it while he held onto the leg cuff and the pants off of him.

He realized right then that there was no way he was getting Edward off of him without waking him up. And he didn't want to. He looked so angelic and content when he was asleep...

Sighing, he shifted his body just enough that he was lying against the couch but still holding up Edward. Fixing the big, thick blanket, it covered both of them but he held the younger man close and shut his eyes.

So much for a fire, he supposed. Or...

Oh. His gloves. Moving one arm, he reached into his pocket. It was a special kind of pocket that was sealed off from outside because if his gloves got wet, he couldn't use them to create the spark.

It was hard getting it on with one hand, but somehow Roy managed. Raising his arm, he snapped his fingers and the fireplace roared to life and burned. Heat filled the room, making him feel even more tired.

Yawning softly, Roy kept Edward pressed to him and fell asleep holding him.

Edward woke with his cheek pressed into something warm. His immediate thought was the puppies, and then he opened his eyes. Black hair tickled his nose, and he caught sight of pale skin just beyond it. He blinked twice, and slowly his other senses began to kick in.

He could feel the length of what was unmistakably a body under his. He felt the rise and fall of a person in deep sleep under his chest, and arms wrapped around his waist. His own arms were caught under the body, tingling to show that they were alive.

And when he pulled back, he pulled his arms free and tried to move away. How had he fallen asleep on Roy! His eyes widened when he realized his legs were cold. Glancing down at his feet, he realized his pants and boots were gone.

"AH!" He pushed against Roy's chest and scrambled away.

One second Roy was sleeping peacefully, the next the air was leaving his lungs and he was half-staring at a startled boy.

"Mmph." He mumbled, yawning into his fist. Glancing over at a large grandfather clock surrounded by books, he noticed it was only a few hours after they'd gotten here.

Rubbing his eyes, Roy stood up and stretched. Then, he stared down at Edward. "What're you so riled up about?" He asked as he picked up the blanket and dropped it on top of the boy's head. "Don't worry, I didn't do anything except get you out of your wet pants and boots. I couldn't get your shirt, but I guess you would have screamed and killed me if you'd been that much undressed."

The fire was dead, he noticed. Stepping toward it, he picked up a couple logs to warm the room again. The puppies had fallen asleep in the small bed placed a few feet in front of it, piled on top of each other. Seems they'd taken a hint from somewhere...

He didn't look over at Edward. "There's some dry clothes on the couch right by you. You can change into those."

Glaring wordlessly at Roy, Edward yanked his shirt over his head and pulled on the one he found on the couch arm. It was a relief to be out of the damp shirt, and he let the black cloth drop onto the floor. He reached up and inspected his braid.

Damn. Soaked through.

"Where are my pants?" His voice admitted what his eyes would not. That he really didn't mind waking up on top of Roy.

"Somewhere over there but they're still soaked. They can dry by the fire if you like," Roy said, snapping his fingers to set the fire ablaze again. "I'd lend you some of my own but..."

He grinned, a you're-so-short joke hidden between his lips. He peeled off his own shirt, the white material falling in a sticky heap on the floor as he pulled a fresh one over his head.

Not really thinking much of it, he did the same with his pants. Not contrary to what he'd said, he'd brought down an extra pair of pants as well as a belt. He tossed those toward Edward.

His shorts were a little damp, but not so much that Edward couldn't ignore it. He was pointedly ignoring Roy's change of clothes, pulling the pants on without getting off the couch. He wiggling them up over his hips, and even with the belt they hung down low.

Standing, Edward stretched gratefully. His nose felt thick, and he couldn't breathe easily out of it, but it wasn't anything he couldn't get over.

"I should get back." Because he wasn't going to stick around and let Roy call him short. He ignored the inclination to hang around at all. That would only bring up issues he preferred to leave alone.

"Through that?" Roy said as he stared out of the window as it poured beastly buckets outside. He wouldn't even dare to go outside right then, the rain looked deadly.

He shook his head. "You can leave when the storm passes over."

A sudden strike of thunder and lightning flashed in the window and shook the house a little. Roy swore under his breath, skin crawling. No way was he letting Edward walk through that.

Letting out a yelp, Edward was away from the couch (and the windows) and closer to the fire in seconds. He glared at the window like it was going to bite him, scowl open on his face.

Dammit, he HATED thunder!

Sighing, he looked up at Roy with a sour expression. "Fine. Stupid, manipulating bastard..." Oh, yes. It was all Roy's fault.

"Blaming me for nature's common phenomenon's?" Roy said, amused. "That is hardly fair."

He started walking around the room, picking up their went clothes as he did. As another crash of thunder rumbled and flickered in the window. He set them on iron rods hanging above it, folding them so that they'd dry.

Edward tried not to jump. He really did, but as soon as the thunder sounded, he nearly jerked back into the fire, making a desperate sound of discontent. He hated thunder. Ever since he was a child, he had hated it.

"Dammit." He breathed, brows drawing down in a deep frown. He crossed his arms tight, staring down at them with eyes that were almost blank.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," Roy said, dropping a blanket on Edward's head. "You know that, don't you?"

He sat next to him, wrapping the other blanket around his shoulders. He sighed contently and held the dark blue fleece and cotton material around him.

"Shut up." Edward mumbled, moving back onto the couch and falling onto it. He propped his feet on the edge of the cushion, arms wrapping around his legs and taking the blanket them. "I know there's no reason to be scared."

But that didn't mean he wasn't. Storms terrified him. Scared him shitless. It was an irrational fear, but one he had never been able to counter. The last thing he wanted was for Roy to point out his weakness.

"Well, don't be." Roy said as he stood up. The blanket rose with him, clasped in his hands and draped like a robe. He went over to Edward, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "If you get scared, you can sleep in my bed. I can't sleep on the floor, so I'm going upstairs."

Stepping around the couch, he started walking toward and up the stairs.

Edward didn't stop himself from glaring at Roy's back as he went up the stairs. Scared? Ha! He wouldn't get scared. Ridiculous.

Thunder rolled again, right overhead. Stifling a yelp, he bolted up from the couch and started up after Roy. He tried to ignore the fact that Roy had kissed him. On a normal day, and in a place he couldn't really argue about because it wasn't particularly degrading.

All right, it was. He felt like a child, one being sent to bed, but that was hardly the point. It was the fact that the kiss was so... intimate that made him want to ignore it.

Trotting up the stairs, he stopped at the top and stared at the doors, suddenly realizing he had absolutely no idea which one was Roy's bedroom.

"Third door after the kitchen." Roy's voice called out.

He pulled the bedspread apart, a large king-sized bed covered with a deep blue material.

Yeah, he'd figured Edward would come up here already. It wasn't hard to tell, especially with the booming thunder overhead and the obvious fear the boy had of it.

Grumbling, Edward proceeded down the hall and into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Thunder boomed over them, and it was all Ed could do to stifle a whimper. Damn storms!

He let himself scowl at the bed. "What's with all the blue?" He demanded. Even the blanket he was covered in was blue! A dusky blue, like some sort of demented flower, but it was still blue!

He was really beginning to hate the color.

"At least it's not pink." Was all Roy had to say, sliding into the bed. He yawned, eyes shutting.

Edward was finding a lot to grumble about, he noticed. Just making excuses until it finally came time to get into the bed with him and sleep. Actually, it was rather funny.

But Roy didn't laugh. That would have made the boy mad.

Snorting as if he would have preferred pink, Edward pulled off the belt. Sleeping in a belt was uncomfortable, and a total waste of being asleep. Immediately, the pants dropped around his ankles, and he rolled his eyes, stepping out of them.

Damn. Roy had to have huge hips.

This was where Edward had to admit defeat. Facing the bed with nothing else to keep him away from it, Edward was completely out of things to grumble about. He had no reason to not climb into the bed, besides his own pride.

In the end, it was the next roll of thunder that convinced him. As soon as it started, he was across the room and slipping into the bed, trying not to make any sign of his fear.

Roy would just make fun of him for it.

Sighing softly, Roy could feel tendrils of sleep creeping over him. Then, he felt a small tap land on his foot. Looking up, he watched the creeping form of Ed (actually, he looked a bit smug) step lightly on his paws in between him and Edward.

The cat settled between them, on the pillow. Like he was both glad they were together but also making sure they were a certain degree apart.

Protective little thing, wasn't he? But of Roy or Edward...?

Edward was already asleep, too far gone to notice the cat. But every time the storm let loose another round of thunder, he would make a distressed noise in his sleep, and crunch into a tighter ball on his side.

It wasn't unusual for him to be more open when he was sleeping. It was something he had never had brought to light for him, because he had no idea what he did when sleeping. It had never occurred to him to find out. Sleep was a necessity, and that was all. Something his body needed.

So it was really no shock that he didn't know he slept on his side, or that he talked aloud while he dreamed. He didn't know he kicked, tossed and turned. It was not surprising that he didn't know any of these things, and he was likewise unaware of every desperate sound he made while the storm raged overhead.

Roy really was somewhat sleeping, caught between thinking and unconsciousness. Occasionally he would find himself at that point but then he'd draw in a quick breath and his eyes would flutter.

Ed mewled at him annoyingly. He was trying to sleep, Roy assumed.

Rolling slightly, he contemplated holding the smaller man to banish the disturbed jolts and finally reached over and tugged gently at his shoulder. Based on human reaction, he hoped it would get Edward to roll over a little.

One hand shot out, hitting at Roy to make the shaking go away. When it didn't, Edward's brow wrinkled in light distress, and he groaned, still very much asleep.

"Go 'way..." He mumbled, curling into a protective ball.

He could still hear the storm overhead, and in his dream, he was running through a storm much like it. He was trying to find a place to hide, he had to save something, someone, but he didn't know what. And the things chasing him laughed uproarously at his turmoil, watched him dart left to right like a trapped mouse, looking for somewhere - anywhere! - to hide himself.

Trying not to chuckle, Roy moved over. It disturbed Ed, who hissed slightly but moved over. He wrapped his arms around the ball of hot flesh that was Edward, running his hand over the boy's hair.

How cute. He talked in his sleep! Roy was tempted to pinch his cheeks.

The instant reaction was a thrash, Roy pulling him close as the things in Edward's dream caught up with him. After a moment, Edward's writhing stopped, and his expression smoothed as that dream faded to another.

Roy was warm, and Edward's sleeping mind decided he would make an excellent pillow. Letting out a soft, "Mm..." That was nearly a purr, Edward settled down, Roy's body heat and strong heart beat lulling him into dreams where things didn't chase him. Dreams where things were happy.

Roy was a bit surprised at the purr-y sound. He hadn't expected it but...it was certainly welcome. It made him think twice as much that Edward was cute.

Settling himself into a relaxed position with his arms wrapped around Edward in a near protective way, he shut his eyes again and found sleep a lot closer than before.

In moments, he had joined Edward's steady breathing as he drifted off to sleep as well.

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TBC

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Suuqa: .


	6. Love

Deliver Me

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Chapter Six: Love

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When Edward woke again, it was to the deep sound of Roy's heartbeat. His ear was pressed against the man's chest, and he couldn't see anything through the haze of blonde that was his own hair. Lifting his head proved to be a challenge, and with a great effort, he sat up.

There were no sounds of booming thunder from outside. No constant pour of rain that was nearly solid. No signs of a storm at all.

In fact... He squinted at the light blue (Blue! Again! Everywhere he looked, BLUE!) curtains. Was that... sun streaming through them? Rubbing his eyes, it had never seemed more apparent. The storm had passed, but behind it, it had left more then a few wet streets.

His nose felt like it was going to fall off.

"Ugh..." He rubbed at his nose, sniffing pitifully. Damn. He couldn't stand being sick, all it did was slow him down.

There was a sound, Roy stirred and his eyes opened. He felt warm, far warmer than usual.

Shifting, he sat up and yawned. "Mmm." He mumbled, looking over at Edward. "You feeling okay? Hungry?"

He should make breakfast, he guessed.

"I can't breathe." Edward griped, voice just a little nasally.

His stomach grumbled for food. He hadn't eaten since before he'd left the house chasing after Ed. Yes, he was hungry. Very hungry. He felt like he could eat a cow, no sweat.

"I have something that could help that. There's a couple type of cold medicine in the bathroom."

He stood up, stretching his limbs as he started toward the door. "Help yourself, it's the door adjoining." He said as he left the room and walked toward the kitchen.

Groaning, Edward all but fell off the bed. Barely getting his feet under him in time, he looked around for the bathroom door.

Oh. There. Right next to the closet door and the window.

Gee. Roy was such a great help.

Edward nearly fell into the bathroom, head feeling like he'd split it on a brick wall. Clutching his forehead with one hand, he dug through the medicine cabinet with the other. "Ha!" He held his prize high, started to read the ingredients...

And could have cried.

"Expired!"

Roy could hear the cry of dismay from down the hall. He stuck his head out of the door, peering down the hall. Well, Edward wasn't going to get anywhere now. He didn't have any more medicine.

Cracking another egg, it sizzled on the frying pan and he flipped it over without breaking the yoke. On another was some bacon. "Food's almost ready." He said in somewhat of a loud voice. Dogs drooled beneath him, but he sent them back to their doggy bowls for their own food.

This was a tragedy. Yes, Edward Elric was going to sink into a depression over cold medicine.

Well, he wasn't, but his head really hurt!

Pulling out the tie to his braid, Edward scowled as he made his way to the kitchen. He combed through the strands with his fingers, beginning a looser braid in hope it would ease the pain in his temples.

The smell of food put an end to all of his other troubles. Bacon... He pulled himself up onto the stool he had sat at days before, elbows on the counter as he watched Roy cook.

Mustang wasn't THAT bad, he supposed. He could be a lot worse, Edward knew. He'd seen it. Experienced it. This Roy was mellow. Domestic.

It was actually a little frightening.

When the eggs and bacon were done, Roy pulled a couple plates from the cabinet beside the stove, flipping a couple eggs and a lot of bacon onto one plate. He placed it in front of Edward.

"Eat up." He said with a small grin, turning back to finish cooking his own.

Yes, the Mustang household ate hearty. That was why his pantry was half-full of dog food cans. And Roy had an excellent metabolism, to the envy of people around him.

Accepting the fork that was belatedly offered to him, Edward dug in with gusto. His stomach greatly appreciated the intake of eggs and bacon, and he was thankful when it made no move to reject the meal.

Wasting food was terrible. Like blasphemy in the church where bacon was a god, and eggs were the priests.

Mass would be very interesting in a church like that. 'We the free peoples of Breakfast Time...'

It was hard to think about your food having a church service when you were supposed to be eating it.

"Make sure you taste it." Roy said with a smirk, sitting beside him a moment later with his own plate and eating with a slightly lesser pace.

His ideal breakfast. Eggs and bacon, simple yet delicious.

He set down his fork and stood, going over to the refrigerator. "Milk, orange juice...?" He asked, looking over at his houseguest.

Edward twitched. Really, truly twitch. The fork slowed, and he swallowed before answering. "Orange juice." Milk... ugh.

Order taken, he started to eat again, though at a more sedated speed. Now that he'd started, gotten something in his stomach, he could relax a bit and enjoy the way it tasted.

Somehow, it didn't surprise him that Roy was a good cook.

Taking out a carton, Roy pulled two glasses from a cabinet opposite the stove and poured. He set one (carefully, as not to get his finger's eaten) beside Edward's plate before returning to his own.

Clearly Edward was hungry, he thought amusedly as he watched the boy out of the corner of his eye.

It was hard to eat while Roy was watching him. Edward was discovering that fact quickly. Swallowing his last bite, he took a drink of the orange juice and set it down.

"What?" He finally demanded, pushing away his empty plate. He could eat more, but his desire for food had been sated for at least twenty minutes.

"You eat like a horse." Roy commented, taking Edward's plate and standing up. "Do you want more?"

He could make more. Or something else. He never really cooked this much, usually he just made a food just for himself. It was refreshing to have to cook for another person.

"Yeah." Edward was still glaring. He was not a horse!

But, at least he hadn't been compared to a miniature pony. Then he would really have to make a fuss.

Roy could have added some kind of joke poked at Edward's height with the horse comment, but he figured it'd be best not to. Setting their plates beside the sink, he went over to the refrigerator and swung open the door in search of more bacon and eggs.

He swore softly. "Out of eggs." He said dimly, tossing the empty carton into the garbage. "But there's still bacon."

Taking out the still thick package, Roy peeled a few slices from the deli wrapped meat and heated up the frying pan again. Waiting for it, he sat down beside Edward to take a sip of his orange juice.

Even without the meat in the pan, the smell of bacon hung thick in the air. Edward sighed happily, leaning forward and resting both arms on the counter. He was still taking great delight in feeling things in his right arm. The way it fell asleep when he slept wrong, touching something soft... He was thrilled with paper cuts, as odd as it sounded.

It didn't seem weird that he was happy and comfortable in the presence of Roy Mustang. He hadn't given it much thought, still too relaxed from sleeping.

There was a small beep from the frying pan, Roy got up to start cooking the bacon. In a moment, it was frying and soon enough he'd slipped the meat onto Edward's plate and slid it over to him.

After doing so, he glanced up at the clock and grimaced. "I have work in an hour." He informed the boy. "So I'll be leaving. You can stay if you want, I'll put your clothes in the wash."

Work. Edward looked down at his plate and poked the bacon with his fork. It had only been three days, but he missed it. He missed the library, and the work...

He still hadn't tried to transmute without a circle. He was almost positive there was still enough metal in his blood. Having all of your nerves attached to automail brought a certain level of affinity with the metal itself. But he didn't want to try, and have it be a failure.

"It's just water..." Edward stabbed rather viciously at the bacon. "I'll be fine." The oddity of the situation was just beginning to hit him. He was in Mustang's house, his kitchen... wearing his shirt, and shorts. They'd spent the entire night in the same bed, and both of them were still alive.

Maybe he really was sick.

Roy nodded slowly, standing up. "I'll get dressed in my room, yours are still downstairs." He said before turning and starting out of the kitchen.

But, he turned and picked up his glass and drained it of orange juice before setting it beside the sink. Muttering his schedule that day to himself, he went back to his bedroom to track down his extra uniform.

Pushing aside his plate again, Edward groaned and dropped his head hard onto the table. Dammit, he was NOT doing this! He wasn't! He didn't want Mustang to stay, he wanted him to leave! And never, ever come back! That was what he wanted, not to...

No, it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted Roy to stay, to blow off work and stay with him. He knew it, and he was sure that Roy knew it, too.

And that was wrong. He shouldn't want that. He was getting in way over his head, and he didn't know how to get out.

A few minutes later, Roy came back with a heavy sigh. "I don't have a spare uniform." He said with a sigh. "And going into work with a dirty and or less than presentable attire is the same as getting demoted."

He stood at the door, in much more casual clothing as he leaned against the frame. "So I'll be staying here."

A sudden rumble and a couple dozen dogs yapped, bunching around his ankles. "But they want to be walked."

Staying. Roy was staying. Edward knew he should be disappointed, and he raised his head with an expression that was anything but. And... wow. Roy did own clothing that wasn't blue.

"Where do you usually take them?" He slipped off the stool, intent on finding his pants. He had no intention of changing his shirts. No, Roy's was sigustingly comfortable, but he wanted his pants, at least.

"Everywhere." Roy said with a small smirk. "There's a park a ways down the street they like."

Noting Edward's lack of clothing, Roy pointed down. "Your pants are still in front of the fireplace. They should be dry by now."

He rubbed his eyes with a slight bit of irritation. "I'll meet you by the door." Roy said, heading over to the bathroom but didn't let the dogs follow him.

Edward watched him go, stretching with his arms so high that his back arched and his toes curled. Sighing as he came back down, he made his way on wobbly legs back to the room he'd fallen asleep in the night before.

As Roy had said, his pants were still on the floor, in front of the fireplace. Shaking them out, he tugged them on over his shorts. He found his socks and boots, pulling those on, too. Roy's shirt he left loose, and it hung almost all the way down to his knees.

It didn't take long for him to get to the door, and he snorted when Roy finally got there. "Took you long enough. Slowing down in your old age?"

Roy shrugged, standing in front of Edward. "I had to take out my contacts, they weren't staying right." He said, tipping his glasses.

Yes, the mighty Roy Mustang wore glasses. And looked damn sexy in them, he had to say.

Blinking several times, the sight didn't seem to register. Edward was staring quite blatantly, but he didn't seem able to look away.

The glasses were round, with thin wire rims. He was completely entranced, and he felt like an idiot for not looking away. Finally, he cleared his throat.

"Let's go." He jerked his gaze away, turning to face the dogs, who were crowded by the door.

Pushing all the canines out the door, Roy tried his best to see if they were all there. So, he just asked. "Everybody here?"

Two yips and a meow announced that two puppies and a cat (guess who?) were coming outside. Smiling, Roy pointed down the street. "This way, let's go."

Meanwhile, the neighborhood watched as the every-so-often parade of dogs and Colonel Mustang began. It was amusing, to say the least, to watch their military figure of this part of the country direct dogs. But, oh! Looks like he had a young man with him as well!

Go Mustang!

The dogs continued to press close as they made their way toward the park, and every so often, Edward would find his arm brushing Roy's. He would jump at the contact and move away, trying to hide a blush he swore wasn't there. Then the dogs would press in again, and the cycle would repeat.

Edward's eyes locked on the park as they approached it, and he grinned at the sight of his favorite childhood toy. Swings! He loved swings!

Usually Roy sat at a bench and let the dogs play, read a newspaper or whatnot. But, he noticed, a mother was nursing her child at the bench he usually sat at.

Turning, he noted what Edward was staring and smiling at. Grinning himself, he took a small sidestep toward them and his hands curled around the metal loops as he sat down on the seat.

Then the rather famous (Flame Alchemist and Colonel of the Military) Roy Mustang started to swing.

He had to laugh at the sight of Mustang swinging, but that hardly stopped Edward from dropping into a swing of his own. He didn't begin a large swing like Roy had, just curled his fingers around the loops and let the shifting of his body ease the swing into a rocking movement.

He watched the dogs, occasionally pushing with one foot to lend to the swing's movement. This was a surprisingly peaceful moment. He didn't want to ruin it by saying anything.

Roy let his legs relax after awhile, the swing stopping slowly. He watched the puppies roll over each other and yip at each other, Ed watching amusedly with a twitch of his whiskers. There were the larger dogs running around and fighting over random sticks, children came up to play with them.

He had to smile, leaning over and resting his head on the rope of metal loops. He was really quite content, very happy actually. There was only one thing that he wanted to say, so he decided to just come out and say it.

"Edward," He said suddenly. "I love you."

One minute, Edward was pushing off from the ground with his toe. The next, he was flat on his back, trying to scramble up so he could stare at Roy. This was made difficult by the swing that kept tangling up his feet, but eventually, he rolled onto his side and stared wide eyed at his former commanding officer.

"What?" It was a breathless request for explanation, the information too much for Edward's brain to really comprehend.

Like he could deal with. Care for he could do. But love? Love wasn't just some baby step. It was a giant leap forward into serious relationship, and Edward was still under the impression that he couldn't stand Mustang, much less love him!

Roy blinked behind his glasses, leaning back to stare down at Edward. "Are you all right?" He asked, ignoring Edward's question for a moment.

It was odd to him that Edward hadn't figured that out yet. It was rather obvious, if he did say so himself. Sure, he had knocked Edward around a bit over the years.

"No!" How could he possibly be alright? Edward struggled onto his knees, not quite trusting himself to stand up.

Roy had just told him he loved him! How the hell could he just snap back into 'all right?' It was crazy! Insane! Impossible!

And absolutely perfect.

Edward groaned, burying his face in his hands as he shook his head.

Roy smiled slightly, turning and looking up so his eyes extended to the sky. Sure it had been a tiny bit of a bombshell to say the least, but Roy wasn't much into keeping his feelings under wraps.

Sighing, he glanced over at Edward again. "What's wrong with my loving you? It's not so bad, is it?"

"No! I mean, yes! Dammit, it should be!" Edward lowered his hands, using the chains on the swing to pull himself up.

This had to be a joke. Something. Roy was just kidding around, being a bastard... That had to be it. There was no way he would seriously... love...

Of course he wouldn't. It was crazy.

"Why should it?" Roy asked, rocking his legs back and forth so the swing moved a little. "It's not like I said, 'I love you, so you have to love me back'."

There was a loud cry of laughter as one of the larger dogs caught a stick in midair. Roy smiled as he watched, only half concentrating on the sights in front of him.

He was too caught up in sights beside him he couldn't look at.

Plopping himself backward in the swing, Edward kept his back to the dogs. He looked down at his hands, frowning deeply.

Alright, so Roy had a point. He hadn't been told he had to love back, or anything. He supposed... maybe it was okay, then. It wasn't like he couldn't walk away if he didn't like it.

Some little part of him reminded him that he wasn't walking.

Finally, Edward looked up. "Come here." He didn't wait for Roy's response, just turned in his seat and grabbed the chain of Roy's. He gave it a tug, pulling the other man to him and planting his lips firmly on his.

It was Roy's turn to be surprised, but he handled it a lot easier than Edward had. Instead, he drew up a hand to touch Edward's cheek and shut his eyes.

He hadn't expected any feelings to be returned so...this was wonderful.

All of a sudden he was angry at his glasses for pressing against his eyes as they were. Roy returned the kiss with eager yet soft affection. Yes, he did love Edward.

This was like the kiss in the rain, but dry. Edward let the kiss proceed slowly, pulling back only when he had to draw breath. His nose still wasn't cooperating, thick and completely useless.

At least his head had stopped aching.

"I don't love you," He told Roy bluntly, "But I can try to like you."

As if he didn't already. He didn't just go around sleeping in the same bed with someone he didn't like, or kiss them in the rain, and on swings... No, those were things he hadn't done with anyone before (Though he had been kissed. Really, he had!), and he wouldn't do them with someone he hated.

A slight look of surprise took Roy's expression, and then it melded into a smile. "Sounds good." He said, kissing Edward's cheek.

He turned again, swinging with a small knowing smile on his face. "You know what? I bet I'm going to catch your cold. Hopefully I won't start shrinking too."

A slight look of surprise took Roy's expression, then it melded into a smile. "Sounds good." He said, kissing Edward's cheek.

He turned again, swinging with a small knowing smile on his face. "You know what? I bet I'm going to catch your cold. Hopefully I won't start shrinking too."

Grumbling, Edward let go of Roy's swing and scowled at the trees. "Fuck you, Mustang."

"Oh, you like me that much already?"

Eyes narrowing, Edward shot him a glare. "No."

Roy sighed softly. "Oh well."

He thought for a second. "You know what? You're just like a cat." He decided, turning to stare at him.

The chain twisted above Edward's head as he turned, expression skeptical. "I think you are getting sick. You're delirious."

"I'm serious." Roy said, staring at him. "I thought so before, that's why I named that cat after you. But now I've seen even more catlike qualities besides your eyes and catty attitude. You purr in your sleep."

It'd been soothing, actually. A little rumbling sound that had lulled Roy to sleep.

"I do not!" Edward protested immediately, though, he really wouldn't know.

But, it was his pride that kept him from admitting that. He was determined to prove that he did not purr in his sleep, or anything else remotely embarrassing.

"Yes, you do."

"I do not, asshole! I changed my mind, I hate you!"

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End

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Suqua: huh. We ended up not writing a lemon for this. How..weird…O.o


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